Review: PRACTICAL MAGIC 2

 by Rob DiCristino

Midnight Margaritas, anyone?

1998’s Practical Magic is the cinematic equivalent of a boozy Galentine’s Day brunch: Like 9 to 5, Thelma & Louise, and Mystic Pizza before it, the Griffin Dunne-directed comedic fantasy/romance is far more interested in celebrating the indefatigable power of sorority than with building any complex drama or character intrigue. Believe it or not, that’s a compliment! We love to celebrate female relationships in cinema! We love watching brassy, foul-mouthed dames climb the corporate ladder! We love romantic shenanigans set in a quirky New England pizza parlor! We love suicide pacts with bisexual overtones! And you’d better believe we love a seaside Victorian lousy with horny witches! While it may have been a critical and commercial disappointment upon its original release, it’s that very same Ladies Being Gals energy that has solidified Practical Magic’s place in cult cinema history for nearly thirty years. The Owens sisters’ story is one of empowerment. Of sisterhood. Of the singular satisfaction that comes with burying an abusive fuckboy in your aunts’ garden.

So, fuck it! Practical Magic 2! Why the hell not? Here we go: A generation has passed since Sally (Sandra Bullock) lost her husband to an ancient curse that dooms each and every one of the Owens’ true loves to a brutal death. Determined to conquer her grief and safeguard her family’s future, she’s sealed off her magic and deceived her daughters (Joey King as Kylie and Maisie Williams as Antonia), both of whom have grown up in the shadow of rumors about their aunts’ (Stockard Channing returning as Frances and Dianne Wiest returning as Jet) supernatural predilections. It’s all smoke and mirrors until Kylie confesses her love to college hunk Gideon (Blue Beetle standout Xolo Maridueña), who — as if by otherworldly decree — immediately gets pancaked by a car and put into a coma. Now, with the help of an ancient text that might hold the key to dismantling the Owens family curse, Sally and her tequila-loving, ride-or-die sister (Nicole Kidman as Gilly) must reveal their darkest truths and free themselves from the shackles of this deadly spell once and for all.

But, look. I’m going to be honest with you: That couldn’t matter less. Sure, Practical Magic 2 — based on Alice Hoffman’s 2021 novel The Book of Magic and co-written by Georgia Pritchett, Kelly Marcel, and, as was the case with the first film, Academy Award-winning screenwriter Akiva Goldsman — technically has a plot. It’s about Kylie’s quest for answers, a quest that will lead her to an ancient English witch burning site and into the clutches of the duplicitous scion of a hidden Owens bloodline (Solly McLeod as Thomas Lockland). Sally and Gilly will follow her, of course, enlisting the help of charming demonology professor Ian Wright (the impossibly tall Lee Pace) with whom — and you’ll be shocked to hear this — Sally will develop a romantic relationship. But, come on. You don’t care about that at all, do you? I didn’t! My eyes started glazing over every time Gilly explained the left-handed magic that haunts the Book of the Raven or Whatever the Fuck It’s Called. I think there’s a needle that will open the cursed pages? Maybe? I’ve already forgotten.

That’s because Practical Magic was never about witchcraft. It was never about spells. It was never about the sort of convoluted technical lore that would make your local dungeon master cream in his pants. Not a single person showing up for a sequel to the “midnight margaritas” movie gives a flying fuck about Wiccan arcana, sacred incantations, or the Book of the Raven’s Beard (I swear, I saw this movie last night and I can’t remember what that thing is called). No, the people who religiously rewatch Practical Magic every fall when the leaves turn know that it’s all about the feminine vibes. It’s about the effortless chemistry between Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman. It’s about the endless warmth — and fabulous fits — from Stockard Channing and Dianne Wiest. It’s about dancing around the kitchen in spaghetti-strapped tops because, for crying out loud, no one understands you like your sister. Why do these movies even bother featuring men? They’re always the most annoying part! Why kiss a stupid boy when you can hide under the covers with your best girlfriend?

Anyway, this is supposed to be a review: Is Susanne Bier’s Practical Magic 2 a quality exercise in filmmaking craft? It is not! It’s haphazardly directed, poorly edited, and features a second act so mind-numbingly boring that you’ll resent the entire British commonwealth for forcing a pair of toe-headed douchebags into your estrogen extravaganza. But none of that matters when Sandra Bullock is dropping double — sometimes triple — entendres under her breath. None of that matters when Nicole Kidman is slinking around the margins of every shot like a sex-crazed poltergeist. None of that matters when we’re reminded that sometimes a movie is just about a bunch of women who love each other. Women who support each other in moments of fear and doubt. Women who recognize that growth is the fruit of ambition, of reckless whimsy and dogged self-confidence. Practical Magic 2 celebrates the unbridled joy of connection, the confidence that comes with leaning on the people who know and love you best. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Here it is. You’re welcome.

Practical Magic 2 is in U.S. theaters now.